[I am sorry if I ignored you. I guess a reply just never crossed my mind, since I did not know the answer of your question. I apologize, and next time I will let you know that I do not. ]
Her fingers stroked her arm where Jacob last touched it, she looked there as if she was expecting there to be a mark. There was nothing, only fleeting warmth from another persons touch. Her mind wandered off, and left her body in a somewhat awkward state before snapping back to reality. "Don't change." Abbra called to his back, watching him leave the room and knowing where he was going. Only left to wonder what Jacob could possibly say to a person like Axel.
She stood alone, returning back to her arm. Running her finger nails along it, and making short, invisible lines. Dwelling on memories of the little boy who fell asleep on her shoulder. Then on how he disappeared, and how she was told that he had died. It wasn't long ago at all, a fortnight possibly. It's funny how grieving can be set aside and forgotten. Most people would be happy their friend was alive. Abbra was less than satisfied, she knew it was rather pathetic that you can't like somebody just because of change. But she couldn't see past how he had acted since he arrived. As if they were vermin.
She turned her head up and sighed, if she could be seven again. And just tell Axel, just warn him. Just do something to help him would be enough. Abbra wished it had been her eye, her burden to carry. It just wasn't fair to put somebody through such hell, and now he probably hated her because of it. Wouldn't anybody? He probably had a personal vendetta, she didn't blame him.
She wouldn't allow further depression to wash over her. Her feet lightly tapped against the floor, in what seemed to her a cheery, up beat almost silent rhythm. They carried her to the gym, which was almost as quiet as the bleak halls she had walked through to get here. She sat a fair thirty feet away from Lawrence and chuckled. "Come on, put your back into it solider!" Her voice rang, sounding sharp as a whip and loudly enough to hopefully see him jump. A smile played across her lips in spite of her mood. It was not her job to monger on things that she had no control over. Or at least they didn't have to know.
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Many thanks, Passione.
Last edited by Ambience on Feb 20th, 2007 at 10:59 PM
"Put your back into it, soldier!" a strong female voice hailed him a fair distance behind him. Not recognizing the voice at this distance, he assumed it to be a physical trainer and obliged them by laying a vicious right hook and elbow, and another mid-air knee. The chain connecting the exercise bag to its support creaked ominously.
"That good enough for you, ma'am?" he asked quietly without turning his back.
Abbra chuckled, and had to wonder if it had even registered through his mind that the voice was her own. "Not really." her voice returned back to normal pitch and tone. "Anybody can do that." Her shoulders shrugged as she rested her hands in her lap. She didn't bother changing her blood stained clothes, it seemed rather insignificant. Abbra's eyebrows twitched upwards in an antagonistic fashion, daring him to respond.
Lawrence smiled, as the voice he had come to know so well registered in his mind. He supposed that with her current mood, it was hard to believe that she could sound so well all of a sudden. She was much more emotionally stronger than he was, a valued asset on the field. If someone she was close to died it shouldn't affect her too badly...for the time being.
"Yeah, that's true," he said, picking up a nearby towel on a rack and walking over to her. "But I like that style best anyways. Screw Tae Kwon Do."
Lawrence did a double take as he saw her shirt, liberally flecked with Parker's blood. Some of it was on her face, though she didn't appear to care.
ooc: I can in five minutes. My old computer doesn't have MSN on it.
Abbra rolled her eyes, standing up. "It was sarcasm. I can only assume it was you who broke the punching bag. And hey..." She warned, prodding his chest with her finger. "Tae Kwon Do kicks ass." She chuckled and kicked a leg straight up in the air, only to bounce back and take a fighting stance. Giggling insanely, she continued to make the same noises many men did on old karate movies.
Returning to her normal self she lightly smacked him behind the head. "Oh shut up. I know I look filthy, but I intend on showering pretty soon so don't get lippy with me. I might just have to kick your butt around the gym a few times. You know, teach you a little Tae Kwon Do." Her smile proved impossible to hide as she looked at his face. "but I don't think that'll be necessary."
Lawrence inwardly laughed with relief. At least she was back to acting normal. He couldn't have imagined life without Abbra, training either. Of course, the weirdness was a little exasperating at times but then again...it wouldn't have been Abbra.
He shook his head in mock despair as she made an obscene shrieking noise akin to Bruce Lee.
"People change. Involuntarily, or by thier own will. Time will effect us all." Axel turned, pale ghost like eyes staring directly into Jacob's. "Fighting through Hell can turn even a Spartan into a Demon."
Axel looked down at his hands, which he had taken the time to clean. The stain on them was not something he wished to have upon himself. "These hands have brought on the death of thousands of men..." He said, refering to the Covenant in his unique equal manner. "Enough that's I've lost count by now. All I know is, I've been drenched in the blood of my enemies before, but there's only a few times that I did, or began to regret it."
There was a long silence as Axel's eyes were on his hands, though unseeing the action was part of his instinct. He lowered them slowly, and turned to head back the way he had come, moving for the closest exit. "I've fought Covenant, UNSC, and various Speratist Factions." He said. "So far, I've never killed another human being. I'm not about to start now." He stopped at the exit, glancing over his shoulder. "Especially one of my own. Good day, Chief."
Gender: Male Location: Over there. Maybe there, too.
The doctor stopped the wheel chair infront of a closed door. On the front of it stated "CPO Mendez". This was Mendez's office alright.
The doctor helped Parker up. "Mendez has been waiting inside for you with our special visitor. I think he'll be glad to see you. Good luck, Spartan One-One-Five." The doctor smiled and opened the door.
Parker walked in, using the wall as support. His legs were shaking with the effort. When he saw Mendez look at him, he saluted, still holding on to the wall.
He looked over in another direction and nearly had a heart attack from the shock. The mysterious figure walked over to him. Towering over him at 7 feet-tall, this was truely Spartan One-One-Seven, The Master Chief of the SPARTAN II Project.
Parker saluted and kept a straight face as the Master Chief looked down at him. "At ease, Spartan One-One-Five. It's a pleasure to finally meet you after all this time."
Parker sat down in one of the chairs and let out a deep breath. The pain in his legs was killing him.
Mendez looked up from something and sighed "I have bad news, Spartan. Spike, one of our fellow Spartans, was almost killed last night by Spartan 010."
Parker's eyes widened "Axel did that?"
"Only a few bones in his body survived, the ones that can keep him alive. I'm sorry to say I let it slide, the same goes for the Chief here, but it had to be done. Spike was disobeying orders and was given a warning. You need to toughen up your legs, so head off to the gym. I think two other Spartans were in there. Dismissed."
Parker slowly stood up and made his way out the door, shutting it behind him. Making his way to the gym, he looked around. It was almost empty, except for the very few to survive the surgery. He sighed and made his way over to the weights and sat down. He slowly began to lift each weight to see how much he could carry in his state. Unfortunately, he could only lift 30lbs. at the moment.
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(Thanks Raijin) Xbox Live-Frisky Marcus
Change my attempt, good intentions.
Should I? Could I?
Abbra grinned, "The blood does stink doesn't it?" Her eyes fell to her knees, which were stained a dark brown color. She couldn't remember what caused the blood to turn a different color when exposed to air. What bothered her was that it was on the tip of her tongue. At least she would remember it in a few days time when it wasn't bothering her so much. That wasn't a very comforting thought.
"I'll shower right now. Try to keep the gym in one piece till then OK tiger?" Her eyes twinkled, maybe she teased and poked fun a little to much, but it had become a habit. Hopefully nobody took what she said to heart, because frankly it wasn't intended to be an insult. Her hand patted his back as she parted. "And yes, I know I am weird. And I wouldn't have it any other way. The well behaved, normal people didn't exactly make history now did they?"
With that after thought, she slipped away behind a door, and off to find herself some water to indulge in. How she hated the smell of blood. She hated everything about it, how once it's in your nostrils, you can't possibly get it out. How it side tracks you, and oddly enough, how the stench gave her headaches.
"I'll save some for you." Lawrence said, smiling slightly. She turned to leave, the coppery smell of dried blood lingering on the air. He found that he didn't mind it as much as she thought it would. On the other hand, it was slightly disturbing as well.
He considered going after her but decided against it. She'd furiously beat him to a bloody mess and drown him in the sink if she caught him playing the peeping tom. Blinking slowly, he returned to his exercise bag. Focus.
"The fist or foot isn't your only weapon.," CPO Mendez had once said. "Why use them when you have your elbows? Your knees? They're basically your hammer and your baseball bat. Use them wisely. Muay Boran aims for taking your opponents down when they're armed and you're not as fast and as brutally possible. Which is why we are teaching you in the first place. But remember, guns nor melee is your greatest weapon; your head is."
The bag heaved as Lawrence took yet another powerful two step jump knee, imagining an Elite breastplate shattering under the impact. He wondered if Abbra was going to take long.
( HEY I WAS NOT GIVEN A WARNING AND A CPO LEADER OR THE MASTER CHEIF WOULDN'T OF LET HIM EVEN GO THAT FAR MAYBE BREAKING MY ARM BUT NOT AS FAR AS HE DID)
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sig mad eby me and my best so far
i take requests
[Now he did. Not much to do about it now. Your character is under treatment and as soon as they are complete with him, he will be up and running again ]
Gender: Male Location: Sol system, 3rd planet out.
The phone rang before Julie Yi could get baby Sophie in the high chair, so she answered without putting her down. The number showed it was Tor Banken.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Julie, I got those. . . numbers we were waiting on. They just came in now."
"Um. . . what numbers, Tor?"
"The. . . er, Greek lottery? Keywords?"
His prompt reminded her what he was talking about. "Ah. Right, well, thanks for letting me know. I have to run out to the deli across the street from the laundromat next to the tea shop. The one with the sausages you like. Is that ok?"
"I understand."
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Yi carried her daughter in a papoose on her back. After picking up two pounds of "chicken" (mycoprotein) and two sandwiches, she got a table just as Banken arrived, half an hour after the phone call.
"So what do the numbers say, Tor?"
"There are only 45 of the Spartan III's left functional. Seventeen died in the augmentations, five are severely deformed, and one is listed as fully functional after substantial medical treatment. Oddly, that one's status was changed from fully functional to incapacitated several days after the surgeries. Looks like he'll be down for a few months at the least."
"Twenty-three lost. . ." She looked at her hands, as though soiled. "Would more have survived if the surgeries were done later?"
"The data I've seen doesn't seem to indicate that, not really. Plus, they'd likely be sent on another dangerous mission, underequipped. All of them could die on something like that."
"We stood between the dead and the living with a censer to turn back the wrath. . ."
"Is that a quote? I don't understand."
"Tor, get us an open-ended reservation for a round-trip to Reach, and find out when the memorial service is going to be. Untraceable, of course. You and I are going."
KMC Community Forums
Feb 20th, 2007 10:02 PM
Some are in another room. I wish I could help you more.]
I guess a reply just never crossed my mind, since I did not know the answer of your question. 
)
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